Tales From The Old Bald One-Eyed Salty Red Dog Tavern! (chapter 1, now closed)

[Lazlow]

Berserker Bill pushes his way brusquely into the Captain's building. If the guard moves or so much as seems to notice, Berserker Bill hollers (that's right, hollers) at him, "I've important business with the Captain!" and keeps on going.

"Who?" the guard mutters weakly. He shrugs as the door closes shut.

Inside the Captain's quarters, you traverse a short hall and look inside the first room, which is on your left. Sitting there at his desk is who you assume to be the Captain of the Town Guard, pouring over a sheaf of parchment. And by "pouring" I mean literally pouring, he is filling a comically large crystal goblet with wine, which, despite it being comically large, does not contain the amount of wine that he wishes to pour into it. Also comically large are his moustaches, which seem more like those woven-reed boats you've seen primitive folk make. He takes a long belt of wine from the goblet, the size of which you now deduce as being the optimal size for someone with such an abundance of facial hair.

"Hello? Yes? Have you come for the reward? Jolly good! Sit down, my good fellow, sit down," he slurps, mostly forgetting to swallow his wine before talking. His moustaches droop with the added weight of several ounces of liquid. He takes a seat himself and sets his elbows on his desk, propping his chin up in his hands. At least, that's what you figure he's doing, you can't really see his hands anymore. He looks at you wide-eyed and excited.

 

[Lazlow]

Stunned look on my face::
"How does he wipe? I say his boat must be going to the birds.... I think I might have seen him before but I just can't peg where.... I must say though, I am hooked on figuring out where."

I start to duck if anyone so much as looks at me funny.

The skies darken almost immediately, and thunder and lightning ripple outwards from the heavens. You're not sure, but you think you hear a booming noise coming from above, similar to a long, low groan...

 

[Lazlow]

K follows the man's gaze, to see if he looking at something, and the saying to desert "Yeah that would be a shame"

You can't quite tell, seeing as how they're both covered with patches.

Assuming the man stands the a bit K calls out "Greetings, Sir! once again assuming she get no response "...AHOY, thar, ye ,..., matey"

The man's head turns towards the shore, darting this way and that. Finally he calls out, "Ahoy thar! Who be callin' ol' Wet Willy?"

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill snaps to attention in front of the man's desk, then relaxes to "at ease" and declares, "Sheriff Berserker Bill reporting on behalf of the Duke's royal Ranger Corps! Are you the Captain of the Guard for this his majesty's town of Lizard's Pit?"

He then cocks his eyes toward the ceiling, just registering something he heard earlier. "What reward is that, good sir?"

 

[LogicsFate]

"It be K, Arn you'in thine cap’em o tis fine ship?" she looks to her companions, and in a low agitated voice "A little help here? I can't keep this up all day, it's not like I took a course in sailor, not that I couldn't have but..."

 

[Ranger Rick]

"What do you want me to say? I am not wet nor a willy."

 

[Lazlow]

Berserker Bill snaps to attention in front of the man's desk, then relaxes to "at ease" and declares, "Sheriff Berserker Bill reporting on behalf of the Duke's royal Ranger Corps! Are you the Captain of the Guard for this his majesty's town of Lizard's Pit?"

He then cocks his eyes toward the ceiling, just registering something he heard earlier. "What reward is that, good sir?"

"Oh, ho ho ho, a modest man, eh? How positively chivalrous! Hee hee hee! Delightful. Hm, yes, delightful." He leans back in his chair and props his hands behind his head, red wine still dripping from his ridiculous moustaches in small rivulets that stream down the ornamental breastplate he wears. "Ah, to be young again... The thrill of far-off adventure! The excitement of watching battle! The glory of surviving a hastily beaten retreat! Yes, those were the days... But I digress. Your reward! Here." He hops up quickly, grabbing a rolled-up parchment from his desk, luckily just in time to save it from the rain of cabernet sauvignon that erupted from his moustache as he jerked himself upright. "Take that to Rumpchunk. He'll know what to do." He winks and lays one finger aside his nose - which doesn't quite have the effect that it should, seeing as how he had to stick it through the mass of facial hair to actually get to the nose. He pulls his finger out of the sopping wet whiskers, discovers it's covered in wine, tastes it, and nods approval. "Fine vintage, that, fine vintage. Can I offer you some refreshment?" He gestures towards the carafe with a smile.

 

[Wystan]

"It be K, Arn you'in thine capem o tis fine ship?" she looks to her compainions, and in a low agitated voice "A little help here? I can't keep this up all day, it's not like I took a course in sailor, not that I couldn't have but..."

I look over at K, then look back to the captain.

"Gud Sir, arn teh ghoti* biten t'day? Ifn so I may be'n intrest'd in gitin sum o'dem offa ya fur a gud price mind'ya."
I turn and say in a low voice to the group...
"How was that?

*OOC Ghoti is pronounced Fish....http://www.alphadictionary.com/articles/ling006.html

 

[Lazlow]

"It be K, Arn you'in thine capem o tis fine ship?" she looks to her compainions, and in a low agitated voice "A little help here? I can't keep this up all day, it's not like I took a course in sailor, not that I couldn't have but..."

"Ahoy thar, ye lubbers! No captain am I, no, yar. I be the harbor master, aye, here to guide these loverly lasses in t' th' docks. Now, whar be the AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!", screams Wet Willy, as the ship rams the bumpers on the dock with a SLAM!!, sending Wet Willy overboard and into the drink in a flurry of parrot feathers.

Strangely enough, a very calm-looking sailor in a rowboat happens to be within feet of where Willy landed, and another calm-looking sailor with a large net fishes Wet Willy most unceremoniously out of the water and dumps him into the boat. They slowly make their way over to a ladder leading up to the dock, next to which is a smallish wooden pallet attached to some rope, which is in turn wound around a series of pulleys. The sailors set Wet Willy on the pallet and hoist him up, where he stands up and brushes himself down as his three parrots alight back in their usual spots.

"Good job lads! Another job well done!" shouts the salty sailor to no one in particular as he starts waddling down the dock.

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill takes the paper numbly, letting an appaled expression settle over his face. He expected the reward, not the job itself, and besides, he's got bigger fish to fry. One of his meaty fists wraps tightly over the paper and the other opens and backhands the goblet out of the Captain's hand, knocking it violently across the room. "Dammit, Phyfe! I'm no common errand boy!"

He steps around to the side of the desk to better *intimidate* the Captain, turning the captain's chair to face him and slamming a boot on the chair between his thighs. "I'm here on important business--straight from the Duke! I don't have time for your nostril-nuanced nonsense! Where's Sir Dudley?! And don't give me any of that PALACON bulls**t! Oh, won't talk, eh? Well, refusing to help me is like refusing to help the Duke himself, and refusing to help the Duke gets you an apointment with his men in the basement, of which I was one for 5 gruesome years." Berserker Bill finishes, letting his masterwork intimidation tools clatter across the desk. "If anybody in this world loves you, you better start talking! Where's Sir Dudley?"